


We can never go back, we can only do our best to recreate

by kleeio



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Battle of Waterloo (mentioned), M/M, Nationverse, PrUK Week 2018, Set in modern days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 13:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15002321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleeio/pseuds/kleeio
Summary: PrUK Week, Day 4- Tradition“I was just pointing out that we’ve been doing this for over two centuries now,” he said, shaking his head slowly at him before gulping down the rest of his beer, placing the bottle next to the other empty ones. “Every year, on this day, we religiously respect the same routine- getting drunk and have sex.”A smirk tugged at the corner of Arthur’s lips at that, snorting and adjusting his position, placing his legs on each side of Gilbert to trap him. “My favourite day of the year.” He purred, wrapping his legs around Gilbert’s waist and then pulling him close slightly. He tugged a little too harshly, though, so Gilbert ended up pressed against his chest. “I love this little tradition of ours,”





	We can never go back, we can only do our best to recreate

**Author's Note:**

> The day I'll manage to find a fitting title all hell will freeze over, I swear. Ugh.  
> 

Arthur flopped down next to Gilbert, a bottle of beer – maybe the fourth, maybe the fifth – placed between his fingers. “You look pensive,” he told him, an arm slung over the back of the blue sofa as he relaxed against the fluffy cushions. He kicked his feet on the coffee table, making Gilbert flash him a disapproving look before he simply shook his head. He had told Arthur a thousand times already that he _had to keep his feet off his furniture_ but the older nation never listened to him- not that it surprised Gilbert.

“It’s been 203 years.” Gilbert simply responded to that, the cool, round edge of his own bottle of beer pressed gently against his pale lips as he looked at Arthur. “Isn’t it crazy how fast time goes by?”  to him, it seemed like yesterday that they were standing side by side on the battlefield, covered in dirt, blood and sweat, a wide, proud smile curling their lips as the French retired from Waterloo, the realisation that they had finally put an end to the War, emerging victorious nonetheless!

At that, Arthur let out a huff, puffing out his cheeks for a moment. “Gilbert, _come on_ ,” he groaned. “This is a night of celebration, don’t wreck your head over philosophical questions!” he said, smacking the back of his head gently before nodding towards his beer, silently telling the man to just keep drinking.

Gilbert gasped in protest, scowling at Arthur and slapping his thigh in return. “I was just pointing out that we’ve been doing this for over _two centuries_ now,” he said, shaking his head slowly at him before gulping down the rest of his beer, placing the bottle next to the other empty ones. “Every year, on this day, we religiously respect the same routine- getting drunk and have sex.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Arthur’s lips at that, snorting and adjusting his position, placing his legs on each side of Gilbert to trap him. “My favourite day of the year.” He purred, wrapping his legs around Gilbert’s waist and then pulling him close slightly. He tugged a little too harshly, though, so Gilbert ended up pressed against his chest. “I love this little tradition of ours,” he said, grabbing a new bottle of beer from the floor, where a bunch of packs of the bitter alcohol was lined up, and pushing it in Gilbert’s hands.

The Prussian merely snorted in response, accepting the beer and looking up at Arthur. He cocked a pale eyebrow, settling comfortably against the Englishman as an arm was wrapped securely around him, circling his waist with his hand dangerously close to Gilbert’s bottom. He ignored it, far too used to things like that after having been with him for centuries. “Of course you look forward to it, you’re not the one getting your ass wrecked.” He commented, rolling his eyes as Arthur let out another laugh.

“As if you don't like it.” he said teasingly, a hand sneaking playfully underneath Gilbert’s shirt and making the other man shiver lightly, the softest hue of pink dusting his pale cheeks at the teasing words.

“Shut it, Kirkland,” he said, swatting playfully at his chest and hiding his grin behind the green bottle.

 

And after some more beer, half a bottle of rum and an intense make-out session there they were, Gilbert trying to quell the nauseous feeling that was pestering him, an arm secured over his eyes to shield them from the light that filtered through the window.

Arthur was still sleeping soundly, half-draped over his body with an arm wrapped securely around Gilbert. His head was tucked in the crook of his neck, lips parted gently against the skin and – much to the Germanic nation’s chagrin – a line of drool rolled down from the corner of his lips and pooled on his pale collarbone.

The white, crumpled bed sheets barely covered their bodies, hovering delicately over Arthur’s bottom and leaving his lean figure exposed.

Gilbert moved his arm slightly, glancing down at the warm body laying over him and then gently started following the line of his muscles with his fingertips, tracing the random patterns of the freckles that dotted his beautiful, soft skin.

He had lost count of how many times he had kissed every inch of his body, ran his rough hands over it as Arthur returned the gentle touches, smiling lovingly at him whenever their eyes would meet. Judging from the state they were in, that number must have increased greatly since the previous night.

When Gilbert's hand moved up, fingers tangling in the sandy blond strands, Arthur let out a soft grunt, hiding his face further into Gilbert’s neck. “ _Why_ are you awake already?” he grumbled against his skin, tightening his hold on the man as if trying to drag them both back into Morpheus’ realm.

“We left the curtains open.” he simply said, petting Arthur’s hair mindlessly as he yawned tiredly. Was he getting too old to celebrate like they used to? He felt like his head was about to explode, his whole body seemed deprived of any strength and he didn’t have the will to do anything. From what he was seeing, Arthur wasn’t in a better condition. “You know,” he started, hoping the other hadn’t fallen back asleep already. He was breathing slowly against Gilbert’s skin and he wasn’t giving any sign of knowing what was happening around him- except for a sudden and muffled grunt, his way of asking Gilbert what he wanted. “We should probably tone it down with this tradition.”

Even though he couldn’t see him, Gilbert know Arthur was frowning softly, a suspect that only grew as he mumbled a _why_ under his breath. The blond lifted his head slowly and then looked at Gilbert, bloodshot eyes widening slightly. “You look like _shit_ ,” he stated after a moment, making Gilbert scowl displeased before pushing Arthur’s face away.

“Ever the charming one,” he commented, trying to keep Arthur off of him as the other tried to pull him back into his embrace, chuckling sleepily at Gilbert’s reaction. Eventually, though, Gilbert let the Englishman have his way, too tired to object (and not really able to turn down Arthur’s affections anyway). “Jesus, I feel absolutely destroyed after last night,” he muttered, running a hand over his face.

Arthur smirked, making Gilbert dread what was about to come, and then placed his lips near Gilbert’s ear. “Last night was your Waterloo,” he whispered, his words followed shortly by a loud thud as the Prussian decided to shove his laughing lover off the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I have this headcanon that every year, on June 18, Arthur and Gilbert celebrate their victory over Napoleon in the Battle of Waterloo by getting pissed and having sex later. I don't know, I can totally see them doing that.  
> Also, other tiny headcanon about something that no one probably has paid attention too (it's okay, I almost forgot about that myself, lol): Arthur says that Gilbert tends to wreck his head over a bunch of philosophical matters and that's because a lot of great and very famous philosophers were from Prussia. I feel like Gilbert would be very interested in this subject (and I feel like he probably has a bookshelf filled with philosophical treatises).  
> I'm not entirely happy about how this came out, I feel like I could have done a much better job ugh. Oh well, at least it helped with my anxiety and actually managed to improve my mood so I didn't waste my time completely ^^  
> Thank you for reading this fic! If you enjoyed it please let me know, feedback is always appreciated! [Here](http://kleeio.tumblr.com/)'s my tumblr, just in case you wanted to come by to say hello and talk about these two (and whatever else you want, really).  
> Remember that you're all awesome, lovelies!  
> 'Til the next time! ✿


End file.
